Petrichor
by Linda065cliva
Summary: Sadstuck cronkri. Au where they have never played sgrub. Kankri's POV


Petrichor

You have never fully seen him, although you have seen him many times.

All you have ever caught was a quick glance of his deep, violet eyes in the mist around your hive. That stare that burns holes straight through your blood pusher, though you can't tell why.

As you lean on the window, listening to the pouring rain clashing against the leaves of the trees around your lawnring, you can't help but wonder who he is. Why have you been the only one ever to see him. And why does he appear only after it has been raining, as if he were a ghost of the storm.

While you're lost in thought, you see something appear outside, casting a shadow on the soaked grass as the air seems to become solid.

It's him.

Proudly standing in the middle of your lawnring, though you can't see him because he doesn't seem to be able to maintain a physical form for too long. All you see are those burning pits of amethyst, staring right at you.

You're probably not supposed to do this, but there's a force that pulls you to him. You walk along the corridors of your hive, and once you're at the entrance, you stop. He's there, only a few meters away.

You shyly step forward, slowly going down the few steps in front of your door. You forgot to put your shoes on, so you sink your feet in the damp soil as you walk towards him.

He stands still, watching you as you approach him. You can't help but notice that he's getting a more physical form at every step you make in his direction. You can see lighting bolt shaped horns protruding from his hair, and fins of a seadweller gracing his cheeks.

You stop, only a few steps away from him. You think you can make out a smile on his face.

It's the first time you actually get this close to him, or actually see this much of him really. Of all the times you have seen him, you have never thought of what to say in case you ever got to talk to him.

So you're just standing there in front of him, staring at each other, wrapped in mist and faint raindrops that didn't make it to the ground.

A shiver makes its way down your spine as you dare to open your mouth.

"Do you know me...?"

He silently nods.

"For a long time." he says in a warm yet cold and deep voice.

"How do I call you?"

He just stays there, quiet.

"I don't have a name. And I don't need one." He lowers his head and comes slightly closer to you. Even if you're supposed to be scared, you simply stay where you are, frozen by his presence.

"There's just one thing I need."

"And... what is that if I may ask?"

He moves closer. You're inches apart now.

"You."

He leans down towards you, and you just close your eyes as his cold and moist lips meet yours. His bare skin is cold to the touch, and you feel your bright red sweater get slowly soaked from the dampened air around you. You have never felt so strange in all your sweeps on Beforus, and so... warm. You never even thought you'd let yourself be kissed so easily, seen your vows, but this moment feels so right and perfect it could go on through all eternity.

You try to wrap your arms around him, but he feels so thin he could disappear, so you just hover your hands next to him, melting in his mesmerizing kiss.

It all comes to an end so quickly, as you see in the corner of your eye the sky slowly getting brighter, glowing in anticipation of it's scalding sun. He breaks away from you, and makes the saddest smile you have ever seen.

"I'm glad I managed to do this at least once."

You look at him, lost.

"What do you mean?"

You look at him as he gently fades away, and you try to reach out for his hand, or his face to feel him at least one last time.

"Will I ever see you again?"

All you can see are his eyes, as the mist surrounding you drifts through the air.

"I'm afraid not, my dear. Thank you, and goodbye..."

You start crying, trying to chase him, calling for him, only to find yourself alone as the first rays of sun peek through the clouds.

You let yourself fall in the grass, feeling the tears roll down your face, and mix with the drying dew.

You wake up at the sound of the breeze brushing through the trees. You look around, realizing you're in your lawnring, barefoot. The sun has only started to rise, and as you get up, you bring a hand to your lips.

You're not sure if this has only been a dream, or a vision of some sort, though an ache in your chest tells you that it was all real.

You close your eyes, breathing the last faint glimpse of his scent that lingers in the air, the taste of his kiss still warming up your lips.

The taste of petrichor.


End file.
